


The Prince and the Knight

by hopefulcadence



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Gen, KaraMel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-16 01:45:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11243754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopefulcadence/pseuds/hopefulcadence
Summary: Krypton never fell victim to its own follies, and Kara Zor-El and Kal-El were never launched through the galaxy. Instead, Krypton falls to Daxam, and Kara Zor-El is forcefully recruited to be the personal guard and Knight of the Prince of Daxam, Mon-El.





	1. Duty

Mon-El strides into the cavernous throne room behind his mother and father, and the murmur of the Daxamites thronging the room is immediately stifled. Before the procession, nobly-dressed lords and ladies bow gracefully, and the commoners behind them hurry to mimic their betters. Today, they have all been summoned to stand witness to a momentous occasion: the engagement of the Prince of Daxam. 

After her victory over the hated Kryptonians, Rhea had been eager to spread Daxam's mighty power throughout the galaxy, and spurred by their triumph, the Royal Court had pressed ahead. Now, mere days after the Humans of Earth had been subdued, she was already looking forward to the next planet to conquer. But first, she needed to solidify Daxam's hold over Earth.

One woman, clearly in her finest dress and yet lacking the disposition of the noblewomen around her, watches Mon-El as he follows the lush carpeting to his throne. He watches her back; tips his head in the most minute degree of acknowledgement, and watches the colour drain out of her cheeks as she drops into a deep bow. 

It makes him feel ever more invisible.

He reaches the dais upon which are mounted the thrones, brought with them on their war front from their original home in Daxam's Royal Court. Rhea and Lar turn to face the people, victorious Queen and King, and Mon-El kneels in the traditional genuflection, before rising and striding to his throne by his mother's side and turning to face the people himself.

Or at least, theoretically facing the people. No one would know if, instead of surveying his people with all the princely pride he had been raised to demonstrate, he was intently watching as the knights who had been trailing the procession took their places by their new monarchs' sides. Kara Zor-El, beautiful, fierce, quietly raging, and bound to her new duty as Mon-El's personal guard by the threat to her family, approaches and kneels before him.

He is fascinated by her.

It's odd, this fascination with his sworn knight. He's the Prince of Daxam, and he can have any man or woman he desires. His people bow before him, and the defeated Kryptonites and Humans have vowed obedience to his every word. He is about to be gifted the rule of Earth by his parents, and he will be able to mould this new world into his vision. He will be married to a beautiful woman of Earth, who will give him heirs that he can raise with more love than he was given as a child. His future is opening up, blistering crimson sunlight – or, golden, here, he supposes – shining on all his hidden dreams and desires.

“Rise,” he murmurs, and when Kara does so, fury glitters behind her clear, comet-bright eyes.

“My Lord Prince of Daxam,” she replies, and her voice is remarkably steady for the angry flush creeping up her neck. Mon-El watches her intently for a moment, and the flush creeps higher. Grinding her teeth, Kara steps to the side and takes her stance half a metre to the side and behind Mon-El.

Rhea waves her hand dismissively, and the people of Daxam rise to their feet once more. She holds her hand out to Lar and the two of them stand, clasping fingers.

“My people,” she starts, voice ringing through the huge hall. It is a beautiful cathedral on Earth, now reappropriated. Humans with wings and golden halos painted onto pristine blue skies watch from above. “Today is a glorious day for the Kingdom of Daxam. We bring our culture, our way of life, to a new planet, and we spread the wonder and beauty of our people! Our victory over the terrorist Kryptonites and these divided Humans demonstrate our favour with the Gods! We will push on and continue with our glorious mission.”

She turns to smile at Mon-El, and waves at him to stand. He does so.

“Your Lord Prince, Mon-El of Daxam, will remain here and oversee the... rehabilitation of Earth. To symbolise the way forward, I announce to you all the engagement of Prince Mon-El of Daxam to the Human, Lena Luthor of Earth.”

Beside and behind him, Mon-El can hear the rustle of heavy fabric as Kara stiffens in surprise.

“This alliance will bring stability to the Earth as they are brought into the loving fold of the Kingdom of Daxam. See here now, Lena Luthor of Earth. She will remain with our family as she learns our customs. When she is ready, soon, we will celebrate the joyous marriage of Daxam and Earth.”

With those words, the great doors at the other end of the hallway crack open, and a beautiful Human is somewhat forcefully ushered in. Clearly, this is the Lena Luthor that his mother had picked out for him. He wonders what role Lena held on the planet, that Rhea had deemed her worthy. He supposed they would have many nights and days together for him to find out.

She is pale, that much is obvious from afar, but as she draws closer, Mon-El can see that she is white and trembling. With fear? Hardly what he would ever desire from a paramour. But, no – no, it's anger, just like Kara's hands had trembled the first time she kneeled before him. Oh yes, anger is better – anger is spirit, and spirit is enticing. Mon-El grins at Lena, and his grin only widens when Lena's only reaction is to raise an eyebrow.

Rhea dismisses the Royal Court, but Mon-El isn't listening anymore – his eyes trace over Lena's fair skin and the shape of her waist. Oh yes, he will enjoy getting to know Lena. Lena's eyes move, flick over his shoulder, and Mon-El tilts his head enough to see Kara again. Her eyes are crystal-clear as always, watching Lena helplessly. He wonders if they have ever been anything but windows to her soul.

x

Lena memorises the route to Mon-El's suite of rooms, eyes flickering desperately over every window and door. God, what was going to happen to her? She felt completely helpless. Everything she had always used to bolster herself had been ripped away from her – her family first, then with the arrival of the Daxamite Army, her company, and now even her agency. And there was _nothing_ she could do about it.

Mon-El waves her into the rooms with an elaborate bow, and she strides in as though it was her choice all along. Mon-El's knight follows, the draping dark fabric doing nothing to hide the shock of blonde hair. She wonders what it means, that Mon-El's personal guard is a woman.

Assuming she's a personal guard. Maybe she shouldn't be so sure. She's heard rumours about the hedonistic tendencies of Daxamites. God only knew what this blonde woman was here for.

Mon-El turns to her at least, a cocky grin etched on his face. “Lena,” he starts, sauntering over to her. 

She backs up, then squares her shoulders and puffs out her chest, staring at him down her nose. If he wanted her, he had a lot of learn. “Not a chance,” she replies aloofly. 

“Oh?” Mon-El chuckles. He takes another step forward. “You're turning down the Prince of Daxam, your future husband. Sure that's a good idea, dear?” He takes a few steps towards her and runs a hand down her arm. She snatches it away and takes two steps backwards – only to trip, and land on a plush sofa. She's suddenly looking up at Mon-El, and her heart rate kicks into gear. 

He takes another step forward, and Lena's heart rate increases again. She scrambles to push herself upright, but her hand slips on a pillow. Then – thank God – the blonde woman seems to materialise between them, and Lena finally gets herself upright as Mon-El is halted by a small hand on his chest. 

“What do you think you're doing!” the woman gets out, outraged, before Lena can say exactly the same.

“Kara,” Mon-El replies, apparently caught off guard. “I was going to kiss her, what did you _think_?”

“Oh?” Kara replies through ground teeth. “And what if Lena didn't want to be kissed?”

Mon-El is silent for a moment, staring at Kara. Lena is breathless, watching his face. _What is that expression?_ she wonders.

Eventually, he shrugs. “She could just say so.”

Kara's laugh is slightly hysterical. “You've got to be kidding! About the only thing more threatening than _'Dear, I'm going to be the most powerful person on the planet soon, sure it's a good idea to piss me off?'_ is _'Kara, we will kill all your family and friends if you dare harm our son, the Prince of Daxam'_ , and I say that having heard both! You really think _either_ of us can just say 'no' to you?”

Lena finds the tension in her shoulders easing for the first time since Daxam's Army had appeared in Earth's airspace.

Mon-El stares at Kara as though she had just slapped him. Then, the muscles in his jaw clench, and he breathes heavily out of his nose. “Leave us,” he orders, indicating the door. Kara hesitates, then drops into a kneel before him.

“My Lord Prince of Daxam,” she recites, voice harsh, then rises and spins away without making eye contact with Mon-El. The click of the door closing is loud in the silence of the room.

Mon-El turns away from Lena, and walks into the next room.

Lena sits suddenly back onto the sofa, mouth dry. She feels as though she's just walked through a battlefield and survived. _Who is that Kara? And – why does Mon-El allow that from her?_

x

It's a few days later when Kara is summoned to Mon-El's suite again. 

She dutifully reports to him, for the sake of her family. Outside the door, she takes two deep breaths, counting as she exhales. _Calm_. When she enters the room, Mon-El is standing by a table decadently laid for two. She kneels before him, for the sake of her family. The first time she did this, the edges of her vision went red with rage. Now – the words of recognition fall from her lips without thought. She's become numb to this particular humiliation. All for the sake of her family. “Stand,” Mon-El commands.

She stands. 

He smiles at her, toying with a crystal wine glass. “Sit,” he invites, but of course it's not an invitation when Kara doesn't have a choice.

She sits.

“Wine?” He doesn't wait for a response before pouring her a half-glass, handling the expensive bottle with ease. He's clearly in his element. “Drink,” he encourages, extending his own wine glass for a toast.

She drinks.

She is silent as Mon-El serves her, rich cuts of foreign meats and dishes with ingredients she recognises from Daxam. The scent brings with it a half-memory. The fauna of Krypton and Daxam was similar, and she remembers happier times with similar smells. As they eat in silence, Kara breathes through the always-simmering anger in her chest and resents Mon-El's easy posture. Not a care in the world he and his family had callously torn away from its inhabitants. _Breathe._

“Tell me about yourself, Kara Zor-El.” Kara's eyes flicker up to meet Mon-El's at this surprising command. He's smiling at her, clearly trying to put her off her guard. It won't work.

“I am Kara of the House of Zor-El, of Old Krypton.”

“C'mon, even I know that,” Mon-El teases. “Tell me something I don't know.”

“Why do you care? I'm not going to sleep with you.” Kara snaps her teeth shut, suddenly furious with herself. She hadn't meant for that to slip out! Every Kryptonian knew about the Royal Family's views on that particular topic, but – she mustn't confront him. She needed to be docile, submissive, to protect those dear to her.

“I bet I could change your mind,” Mon-El grins. He's got an easy charisma that makes Kara wonder if, in another time, another universe, she might like him. In this world, though, everything about him makes her sick. “But that's a game for another day. Talk to me about the other day, with Lena.”

A _game_ for another day? She thinks not. Ugh.

“What do you want me to say?”

“You don't really think I would have... forced her, do you?”

Kara's eyebrows raise minutely against her will. Mon-El looks quite sincere, but she has learned never to trust a Daxamite.

“I don't think you realise the power you hold,” she replies carefully. “I wanted you to consider how it appeared from Lena's perspective.”

“That's very... compassionate, of you.” Mon-El almost sounds wondering.

Kara's eyebrows raise a little higher, and the bitterness inside of her pressed against her.

“And what do you think of that? Of me?” she challenges. Compassion is one of the few legacies of the House of El left to her. _El mayarah, stronger together_. It can be so hard to be compassionate to her brutal captors, but she can be compassionate and stand for those who cannot.

Mon-El very deliberately puts his wine glass down onto the table, and watches her. He smiles.

“I think it's very interesting. Very... admirable.”

x

Lena is privately stunned when Mon-El brings her on a tour of a new suite of rooms, then bequeaths them to her.

“Until you are comfortable by my side,” he promises, “these are your rooms, and they will be bound by your right to grant or deny entry.”

He leaves, and she goes through each room again, running her fingers over the delicate lace and crystal vases which adorn the walls. What is his goal? Does he mean to Stockholm her? She survived growing up in the Luthor family, these Daxamites have no chance.

And yet, Mon-El never enters without knocking and awaiting her permission, and he does not make a single advance on her. Lena is driven almost to distraction by the combination of Mon-El's strange behaviour and having literally nothing else to do. She observes everything and everyone around her, dreaming of a way to escape, some miracle way to help Earth fight back. 

x

Had Kara always been so close to hand? Mon-El is sure she had always performed her duties, but now – he's hyperaware of her. Her hair, her clenched jaw, the strength in her posture. Her eyes, following Mon-El's every move, piercing through him. He feels laid bare before her. He had felt invisible to the Royal Court, and had resented it, but now he wishes she wouldn't look at him with such disappointment and disdain. Now he just feels naked.

He wonders what it means for him, when he dreams of her, flying, glowing, caped.

x

Four days later, Kara is garbed in her knight's attire, standing attendance behind Mon-El, when he petitions his parents, the Queen and King of Daxam. He is passionate. Kara has never seen him so expressive.

“The people of Earth have sustained great losses to our armies,” he rallies. “If we are to accommodate them into the Kingdom of Daxam, we must care for them as we would our own people! Let me begin my tenure as ruler of Earth by rebuilding their cities and rehousing their refugees.”

Rhea dismisses him out of hand, citing the importance of directing all available resources to the construction of a Royal Palace fit for the upcoming Royal Wedding and as a symbol of Daxam's might.

Mon-El makes his way to Lena's suite of rooms. His shoulders are tense, and he drums his fingers against his leg impatiently as he waits for Lena to open the door. When she does, he strides in and whirls to face her, arms defiantly crossed. “I need your help.”

Kara hasn't been dismissed, so she enters the room and closes the door carefully.

“ _My_ help?” Lena repeats, amusement colouring her words. “What could I possibly have to offer the Prince of Daxam that he can't demand by force?”

Mon-El's lips twist at that, but he stays focussed. “I want to help the people of Earth. I will be their Prince soon, I should offer them my protection. My parents won't hear anything of it, but I will do it regardless. And so, I need your help. You are the only Human of Earth I know.”

Lena laughs, once, in surprise. Kara's jaw has dropped. She snaps it shut, staring at the profile of Mon-El's face and wishing she could read his thoughts. 

Lena shakes her head in disbelief. A grin stretches across her face. “I'll never understand you, Mon-El. Why do you want to help Earth?”

It's only because Kara is staring at Mon-El so intently, mind whirring as she tries to work out his angle, that she notices Mon-El's eyes flick towards her, widen at her gaze, and flick back to Lena. Her breath catches. _What?_

“I just... I'm the Prince of Daxam. We will raise your people to greater heights than ever, but right now... they don't realise it. I want to show them what Daxam is. Who... who I can be. I'm... considering how it appears from their perspective.”

Mon-El's eyes flicker over to Kara once again, but this time he maintains the eye contact. “I was reminded of my duty to my people.”

Kara drops her eyes. 

Lena watches Mon-El watch Kara.

“Okay,” Lena agrees after a moment, amusement lacing her words. “Okay, Mon-El, Prince of Daxam. I'll help you help Earth. You realise this means you are disobeying the express commands of your parents. Your Queen and King.”

Kara's eyes snap up at that. Mon-El is still watching her. He finally turns back to Lena. “I'm aware.”

“Just so long as you are,” Lena smirks. “Come now, let's sit and plan.”

Mon-El turns back to face Kara. “Kara, come sit with us,” he says as he extends his hand. “I need you by my side for this.”

Kara raises her eyebrows at him. She ignores the outstretched hand, but steps towards him. “You'll be a better person for this,” she says, and she wonders where it came from.

“I know,” Mon-El replies, ducking his head slightly to look at her closely. “I want to be.” He nods at her, then turns to where Lena is sitting at a table.

Kara remains standing, watching him slide into a seat opposite Lena, ready to oppose his parents – however mildly – to help the people of Earth, in the private suite of rooms he had arranged for the woman he would one day marry, having asked for the opinions of a Kryptonian and a Human. He'd challenged the status quo, and the tiny voice of hope inside of Kara, which had almost been extinguished, whispers to her – _what if he can be more than he is now?_

For the first time since she had kneeled before the Prince of Daxam, she feels... hope.


	2. Revelation

Kara is just drifting off to sleep when there is a sudden furious rapping at her door. She jerks upright, startled, as the door swooshes open and Lena steps into the room. "Kara! Good, I'm glad you're awake. There's been an earthquake in Metropolis. I need to you get Mon-El -- I'm organising transport down to Earth, in the docking bay. Be quick!"

Kara scarcely has time to open her mouth before Lena hurries away -- but that doesn't matter. An earthquake in a major city -- the Humans would definitely need some yellow-sun-powered heroics to help them.

She throws back the covers and pulls on her knight's garments as she steps into her boots and runs out of her room. The ship is dark, but the past weeks of orbiting a yellow star have started to work their power on her DNA and her night-vision has improved enough that she can run to Mon-El's suite without any troubles. His door opens at once to her quick knocks. Kara barrels in and - out of sheer force of hated habit - almost drops into the accustomed kneel, lips already parting to utter the typical recognition.

"Kara," Mon-El greets with a confused smile. "What can I do for you?"

"There's an earthquake happening right now, in Metropolis," Kara says quickly, already scooping up Mon-El's boots from the corner he'd thrown them into and tossing them at him. "We have to go, we can help them!" She turns to evaluate his reaction, and is rewarded with a small burn of satisfaction to see the evening's sated laziness drop off his face, to be replaced with a determined frown. He grabs his boots, and Kara grabs his coat from the corner, holds it out for him, then rapidly ushers him out of the room.

"Lena is organising a transport down to the planet," Kara explains briskly as she leads Mon-El at a run down the ship's corridors.

"Okay, once we get to the planet's surface, stick close by and listen for my ord- uh, stick close by and we'll make a plan together," Mon-El amends on the fly.

"Better," Kara mumbles under her breath as they veer around the last corner and hurry into the docking bay. The dim lights silhouette Lena as she powers up one of the backup transporters. She looks up as the two of them approach.

"Good, you're here," she says. "The transporter is ready - I've set the coordinates for a park in the middle of Metropolis. You should be safe to materialise there." She looks at Kara, then, and Kara realises the other woman is scared. "Be safe"

Kara smiles at Lena, then glances at Mon-El in time to see him smile as well. "Don't worry," Mon-El reassures, with all the confidence of a Prince who has always had everything go his way. "I'll look after Kara."

It sounds like a promise, and Kara busies herself checking the transporter and stepping into it. Mon-El follows.

"Okay, Lena, send us down."

Lena looks like she doesn't know what to say as she nods, hesitates, then hits the initiate button and sends them on their way to the planet below.

x

They materialise on their feet, of course, but stagger almost immediately as the twin forces of stampeding people and the concussive force of a trunk landing nearby bowl them over.

Terror grasps Kara by the heart, and she freezes, stricken. The darkness, the dust in the air, the screams around her, the pulsating fear in the atmosphere -- she's done this before, barely survived this. As the dust clears from the fallen truck, dark objects and figures loom up about her: a grown man, head and shoulders taller than her, who shoves by her and sprints away screaming; huge buildings towering above her; the spray of water from a broken fountain. Her hand goes instinctively to her chest, to grasp the pendant her mother had given her just hours ago – no, weeks, months? – but it's not there, and Kara struggles with a choked breath as she scrabbles with the heavy drapes of her cape, and she's buffeted again by a blast of dust as something falls again – one of the ancient statues of Krypton, no, another car, and this one has a plume of smoke rising from the engine – as she watches, horrified, uncomprehending, there is a deafening explosion – brilliant flickers of yellow and blue spring up and throw the chaos into stripes of X-ray-tinted darkness and searingly bright light – the car's bonnet is speeding toward her; the noise inside Kara's mind goes horribly, hideously silent; her heart bursts into a gallop; her jaw drops but there's no air in her lungs to scream – 

“Kara!” 

With a gasp, Kara hits the ground with a heavy weight pressing down onto her. “Kara! Are you okay?” She struggles, writhing on the ground, pinned down, and hot hands grab her thrashing wrists. “Kara, listen to me!”

“Get off me!” Kara shouts, and this time she's able to roll away and stagger to her feet. She's able to – finally – drag in a deep, shuddering breath, and _look_.

Mon-El's pale, horrified face looks back at her. The bonnet from the car is on the ground behind her. It missed her. _No. Mon-El protected her._

“Kara?”

“Mon-El,” she replies, not sure what else to say. “I – ” There's a sudden movement behind Mon-El, and Kara's eyes snap upwards to watch as a third car tips precariously over the edge of a parking complex – oh, Rao, a support pillar had collapsed, and the whole level was slanted – and starts to fall. “Behind you!”

Mon-El spins and throws up his arms to protect his face as the car lands on the flames. There's a hideous screech as the car tips over and settles on the ground, thick black oil starting to creep across the ground.

“Mon-El, run!” Kara shouts, instinctively grabbing his arm and yanking him away. It's only a few seconds later that the oil catches alight, and there is another concussive blast which blows them both off their feet. 

Mon-El coughs as he struggles to his feet. Kara can feel the burn in her own throat as well; the steaming hot air has stolen her breath away from her. Tears prick at her eyes. _Not again, Rao, please --_. She turns to survey the damage, and cries out in dismay. The explosion has blown out all the glass windows from the ground floor of the closest building, and the building – tall, plenty of windows, windows now _being thrown open by people inside_ – is starting to go up in flames. One wall is starting to buckle before her eyes.

“What do we do?” Mon-El demands. “Kara?”

She turns to face him, and takes a deep breath. “I'm going to hold the building, you need to get them out safely! Hurry!”

“Hold it? What?” Mon-El gapes, and his eyes bug out as Kara crouches, looks up to aim properly, and leaps into flight. She slams her hands onto the side of the brick building, digging fingers into the stone to hold it steady, and _braces_. “You can _fly_?” she hears him exclaim in disbelief.

“Hurry!” Kara calls to Mon-El, and after another stunned second, he bursts into action and runs for the entrance to the building. From her position outside the building, Kara loses track of Mon-El and can't see or hear him – but after half a minute, the first family exits the building at a run, the children still rubbing their eyes as the parents hurry away from the building. A steady flow of people leaving follows, most in pyjamas and dressing gowns, some with backpacks, but all blessedly alive and uninjured.

Another truck falls from the parking complex. Kara grits her teeth and tightens her hold on the building. “Come _on_ , Mon-El...!” 

Below her, the scene suddenly illuminates, and Kara squints as she looks down and sighs in relief. The humans have arrived – they've set up huge industrial-looking spotlights, and they are already propping up the building with scaffolding and metal beams. Slowly, the weight of the building is taken off Kara's hands, and at last she dares to pull her hands away entirely – she holds her breath, but the building stays steady, and she lets it out again with an exhilarated grin.

Kara looks down just in time to see Mon-El hurry out of the building himself, carrying a baby, and closely followed by one last family. She swoops down to him as he passes on the baby to its mother, and he turns to her, clearly proud. 

“Everyone's out and safe,” he reports. “And...” he peers around her. “Looks like everything's under control out here.” Kara nods at him, her elated smile still tugging at her lips.

A man sidles up to the two of them and visibly takes a deep breath before asking them: “Who _are_ you?”

Kara watches Mon-El puffs up and turn to address the man. “I am Mon-El of Daxam. This is my, uh, companion, Kara. We are here to help you.”

 _No “Prince” of Daxam, Mon-El?_ Kara quirks an eyebrow up, but just watches.

“Daxam? You mean – you're one of them!” the man spits, recoiling.

“No!” Mon-El replies quickly, holding out a pacifying hand. “I'm not... like them. I want to help protect your cities and people. That's why I came.”

“Can you save us from the bad aliens?” a young voice pipes up, and Kara looks over to see a mother hushing her young child.

“The Daxamites just want to bring you into their culture,” Mon-El replies, but he sounds uncertain, and when there is a ripple of sneering laughter, his jaw sets into an unhappy frown.

“Oh, is that so!” the first man replies. “If that were true, they would not have taken our doctors hostage, they would not have shut down our schools and our workplaces, and they would not have needed to muzzle our media!” He's spitting with disgust and rage by the end of his tirade.

Mon-El's eyes flash at Kara. She just watches him steadily, not a flicker of an emotion on her face.

He turns back to the man, then faces the crowd as a whole. “I'll do something about this,” he vows, and Kara can hear the determination behind his words. She smiles: a hard, satisfied smile that has nothing to do with joy.

x

Hours later, the light of dawn is beginning to creep over the horizon. Kara pauses from where she and Mon-El are lifting a fallen warehouse wall to allow the emergency workers access to the people buried below, and turns her face to the light.

“Beautiful,” Mon-El murmurs, and Kara finds herself nodding to agree with him. The sky is streaked pink and orange, whisps of silvery clouds giving way to those bright stars still twinkling.

She turns back to find him looking at her. “Almost done,” she says, somewhat aimlessly. 

“Yeah,” he replies. Now that the light is hitting his face, Kara can see the shadows under his eyes, and she huffs a smile. “First all-nighter for you?”

Mon-El twists his face at her. “Just because I've never worked through the night to save people and rebuild a city before, doesn't mean I've always gone to sleep right on curfew,” he teased. “I was a real rebel when I was growing up.”

“Oh, I can just imagine,” Kara replies wryly. “Such a rebel, wanting out of your cushy life. I bet you used to reject all those spoils of the palace!”

“Mm, so much so that when my parents discovered I was roaming the city with my guards when I was a teenager, they beat my bodyguard, exiled his family from the city, and micro-chipped me,” Mon-El replies with such candor that it takes a few seconds for Kara to process the story. 

“ _What_?” she demands. “You can't be serious.”

Mon-El awkwardly twists one arm, still holding up the corner of the warehouse wall, and reveals to Kara a small scar along the back of his shoulder. She gasps, outraged. “That's – that's awful!” she hisses at him. “How could they do that to you!”

Mon-El continues on with his story as though he hasn't heard her. “When I turned 16 and was officially appointed the Lord Prince of Daxam, I had my bodyguard dig it out for me. I think the only reason Mother didn't re-chip me was because of my Father. He believed that the future King of Daxam should not have any technology in him that might be hijacked by 'enemies of the Crown' –” somehow, despite his hands being busy, he gets those quotation marks across with his eyebrows – “but to be honest, I think he just wanted the whole thing to go away.”

Kara shakes her head at him, dismay written clearly across her features. “That's awful,” she repeats.

Mon-El watches her for a moment, and Kara is struck by the deep _sadness_ in his expression.

“Thanks, guy!” the gruff voice of one of the emergency paramedics interrupts at that moment, and Kara and Mon-El both turn towards him, slightly startled. “We've got them all out. You can put the wall down again.”

They do, and then they walk over to the ambulances – through the night now, since that first introduction to the man from the building, Mon-El has been introducing himself to everyone. It hasn't escaped Kara's notice that he has yet to reveal, in any of these introductions, that he is the Prince of Daxam.

“Please, help us,” the woman with the broken leg in the back of the ambulance pleads. The gruff-voiced paramedic looks up at Mon-El and nods tiredly in agreement. “The hospitals are half shut down, the doctors have been held hostage. We've still got what supplies are in the ambulances, but it won't last long after tonight. If you can do anything... please, do it.”

Mon-El nods, and draws Kara aside as the ambulance pulls away. 

“We _have_ to do something,” he says, and there's conviction in his voice.

“We will,” Kara promises. “You know this means you'll be working against your parents.”

Mon-El clenches his jaw, looks around at the destruction around him. “Yes,” he breathes. “But as the leader of Earth, the future leader of Daxam... I must.”

Kara reaches out and lays her small hand on Mon-El's forearm, where the muscles are tense and jumping under her touch. “You're doing the right thing.”

The moment stretches between them. Kara marvels at everything that has changed over the course of a single night.

Mon-El takes in a deep breath, and nods. He smiles tremulously at Kara. “Okay. First, one thing. What's a... 'doctor'?”

Kara's lips twist in amusement. “I don't know what term you Daxamites use. A healer, someone who treats injuries and diseases, someone who saves lives.” Mon-El's eyes crinkle in amusement, and Kara wonders if he'd said that intentionally, to break the tension. She barrels onwards: “We're done for tonight – everything is stable, no one else has come looking for us. Let's head back to the ship, and we'll work out what to do. We'll fix this. 

“Mon-El –” she waits for Mon-El to look at her. “I'm proud of you.” His smile is breathtaking.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally inspired by this prompt: “Mon-El is the Prince of Daxam, and Kara is a loyal knight. One way or another, they end up falling for one another, but for obvious reasons, cannot be with one another.” (https://karamel-prompts.tumblr.com/post/161906018913)


End file.
